Song of the Spirits (24 page)

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Authors: Sarah Lark

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Historical, #Romance, #General

BOOK: Song of the Spirits
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Elaine shrugged. “I can ask Laurie, but the twins have their hands full today. It’s possible that the stoves have been heated anyway. We have new guests, and they may want to bathe as well.”

She ran to the kitchen and looked almost enviously at Laurie cutting carrots. She would have liked to hide away in here, rather than run the risk of seeing John Sideblossom out there. Though, in truth, she was a bit curious about him.

Laurie raised her head from her work and thought for a moment. “The bathhouse? Yes, we heated it. But I don’t know if there’s enough water for three people. Ask Mr. Dipps to be frugal. As a banker, he should know how to do that.”

Mr. Dipps heard the comment—Elaine had forgotten to shut the door—and laughed with delight. “I’ll try to do my bank justice. If I use too much, I’ll haul up a couple of buckets myself; I promise. Do you have the key, Miss O’Keefe?”

While Elaine was looking for the key to the bathhouse, she missed hearing the wind chime when it rang a second time. When she had finally found the key in a drawer and turned to face Mr. Dipps, she found herself unexpectedly standing before a new guest as well. The tall, dark-haired man standing behind the banker fixed his inscrutable brown eyes on Elaine.

Almost scared to death by his sudden appearance, she lowered her gaze and blushed. At the same, she grew angry with herself. She could not behave like that here. The man must think her a hopeless fool. She forced herself to look at him.

“Good evening, sir. What can I do for you?”

The man looked her over for a moment before deciding to smile at her. His face was chiseled, almost a little square even, and his curly hair was neatly combed. It looked as though he was coming from a business meeting.

“Thomas Sideblossom. My key, please. And the key to the bathhouse. We’ve reserved it.”

Mr. Dipps smiled apologetically. “I have it at the moment. If I might offer to show you the way, we won’t need to bother Miss O’Keefe.”

“I… I could call the bellboy if more water is needed,” Elaine stammered.

“I think we’ll manage,” said Thomas curtly. “My thanks… Laurie, was it?”

“No, I should say thank you… but I… that is, I’m not Laurie.” Elaine now looked at the young man more closely, admiring his smile, which softened his features.

“What’s your name then, miss?” he asked amiably. He seemed not to have been put off by her stammering.

“Elaine,” she said. “Elaine O’Keefe.”

Thomas Sideblossom did not have much experience with
pakeha
girls. There simply weren’t any in the area around the farm where he grew up, and on his travels he’d had contact only with a few whores. They had proved far from satisfying though. Whenever Thomas thought lustfully of a woman, a brown, wide-hipped figure appeared before his eyes rather than a light-skinned creature. Her hair should be straight and black, long enough to wrap around his fingers and hold in his hand like reins. He banished the image of submission from his mind—a head thrown back, a mouth opened in a scream. He banished the thought of Emere from his mind. Such an image had no place here. For even if he did not know much about respectable
pakeha
girls, the insolent little things in the brothels had made it clear enough to him
that he could not come close to expecting of them what Emere did for his father.

So if he ever wanted to get married, he knew he would have to make compromises. And getting married was unavoidable: Thomas needed an heir. He could not risk having his father and his father’s new wife potentially produce a little rival. Not to mention the fact that he simply couldn’t take it anymore. All these women in the house, all of whom belonged to his father, or were taboo because they… No, Thomas dared not think about that either. The only thing he knew for certain was that he needed a woman all his own, who belonged entirely to him and who must never have belonged to another. It had to be a suitable girl, from a good house. But not one of those giggling, overly self-assured creatures occasionally introduced to him by hopeful business partners. The daughters of those sheep barons and bankers were attractive, but he was turned off by the way they examined him appraisingly, almost lasciviously, their frank speech, and their enticing way of dressing.

Which made the little redhead from the front desk, whose whole life story Mr. Dipps was now describing for him, appear all the more refreshing. The banker proved himself loquacious in the bathhouse, and little Elaine had kept the town gossips thoroughly occupied. Naturally, that knocked her out of the running for Thomas. It was a shame, but this girl was obviously no longer unspoiled.

“The fellow broke the girl’s heart.” Dipps recounted Elaine’s relationship to William Martyn with genuine sympathy. “But the girl he cheated on her with was out of her league, of course. It would have been hard for anyone to compete with her, a Maori princess, that one.”

This last bit of information was of little interest to Thomas. A Maori girl was out of the question for the heir of Lionel Station. Elaine, however, had made a good impression at first. So sweet and shy in her simple, dark high-buttoned riding dress. And yet nicely shaped, with long, silky hair—silk-lined reins. Thomas allowed himself a reverie of a few seconds, during which he pictured delicate red tresses taking the place of Emere’s hair.

Still, he would not have spared the girl a second thought after Dipps’s revelations—had his father not mentioned Elaine as well.

“Did you see the redhead at reception?” John Sideblossom asked when the men met later in their room. Thomas had just left the bathhouse and was changing, and John had just arrived after dealing with Herman Stever. It had gone well. The man planned to buy a whole herd of their best ewes, driving himself deep into debt for them. Though of course it could be a good stroke of business for him if he bred the sheep right on schedule and did not skimp in the wrong places. John would have liked to sell him a few rams too, but the obstinate German claimed not to need them. It would be his own fault if the offspring did not meet his expectations.

Thomas nodded indifferently, though an image from his earlier reverie flashed before him. “Yes, I met her already. Her name is Elaine. But she’s damaged goods. They say she was involved with an Englishman.”

James laughed, but it was his predatory laugh, not the hearty laugh he used among the men with whom he like to recount his conquests in the various brothels he frequented up and down the West Coast.

“Damaged, that one? Never ever. Now, who told you that? She might have been in love, but she’s a classy girl, Thomas. She wouldn’t go to bed with just anyone.”

“I heard she’s related to the hotel owner,” Thomas said. “And she has the red hair too… though she doesn’t behave like she grew up in a pub.”

John roared with laughter. “You think she’s related to Daphne O’Rourke? The madam? I don’t believe it! Don’t you have any sense for class, boy? No, no, that red hair comes from the Wardens. She gets that from the legendary Gwyneira McKenzie, formerly Warden.”

“Gwyneira McKenzie?” Thomas inquired, buttoning the vest of his three-piece suit. “Of Kiward Station? The one who’s married to that rustler now?”

“That’s the one. This girl’s the spitting image of her mother and grandmother. Just looks like a gentler version. Fleurette had a sharp tongue, and old Gwyn no less so. But she was a classy girl, both were classy. You should take another look at the girl. Besides, I still have a score to settle with that family.”

Thomas did not rightly know whether he wanted to help settle his father’s scores. But what he had heard about Elaine’s family intrigued him. He already knew all about his father and Fleurette Warden—everyone in the area still talked about it years later. The only woman to ever resist John Sideblossom, according to the gossip. Who just disappeared after their grandly announced engagement, only to reappear, already married, in Queenstown. It would be difficult to top Fleurette—he was quite certain that this girl Elaine would never behave in such a manner. All the better. Thomas Sideblossom’s hunter’s instinct was aroused once again.

He skipped the visit he had been planning to Daphne’s. How would it look if he satisfied himself with a whore one night and then tried to court a girl from a good house the next day? His hope of running into Elaine at the hotel’s dinner table went unfulfilled. However, he learned that she was not an employee, but Helen O’Keefe’s granddaughter. Hence the misunderstanding about her being Daphne’s relative.

“Elaine is a charming girl, but one has to lure her out of her shell first,” Helen revealed. “She was out of sorts earlier because she was so timid at the front desk. She fears you must think her an idiot.”

Helen was not entirely comfortable speaking so openly about Elaine to the Sideblossoms and knew that Fleurette would probably have stoned her for doing so. On the other hand, this young man appeared well-bred, friendly, and courteous. He had inquired very politely about Elaine, and he was at least as handsome as William Martyn. And he was rich! Perhaps Elaine would start to behave more like her former self if another distinguished young man courted her.
Nothing would come of it, of course. But a few friendly conversations, a hint of admiration in the boy’s dark eyes—Thomas Sideblossom’s gaze was less sharp and piercing than his father’s, more wistful—might be just the thing to bring Elaine back to life. The girl was so pretty. It was time someone told her so!

“I actually quite like it when a young girl is a little… hmm… reserved,” Thomas said. “I rather liked Miss O’Keefe. If you would pass that along for me…”

Helen smiled. Elaine would finally have a reason to blush with joy again, rather than from a lack of self-assurance.

Thomas likewise smiled. “Perhaps I will see her here again. Then I would be able to speak to her at greater length.”

Helen had the feeling that things were moving in the right direction.

3

T
homas ran into Elaine again in her father’s store when he was looking for fabric for new suits. There were excellent tailors in Queenstown, as his father had pointed out. And they worked at much more reasonable rates than their colleagues in Dunedin. When he really thought about it, there was hardly any reason to make the long trip to Dunedin for every little thing. He liked every aspect of the selection in Queenstown. And the fabrics that Ruben carried were not only of good quality but were also recommended by the most delicate hand.

Elaine was straightening a few bales on a shelf when Thomas entered the textiles department. His father was busy with Ruben O’Keefe at the time. All the better, as Thomas wanted to get another look at the girl on his own.

Elaine turned a flaming red when she saw him coming, but Thomas thought it suited her. He also liked the timidity, almost fear, in her eyes. They were beautiful eyes, scintillating like the sea in the sun with a hint of green. She was still wearing the same riding dress as the day before. One certainly could not accuse her of vanity.

“Good morning, Miss O’Keefe. You see, I made a note of your name.”

“It’s… it’s not like I have a twin.” The stupid remark slipped out before she could work up something cleverer. Thomas, however, seemed to find her enthralling.

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